Peter's Game
by Glue-san
Summary: How was Peter before his little brother Ender was born? He was definitely ruthless and ambitious from the start. Originally a work for English class. Rated T because of author's paranoia.


I had to write a prequel to the novel I was reading in English class, which happened to be Ender's Game. Since Ender is six at the beginning of the story, I thought it would be better if it was centered on another character. Peter!

It's really hard to get into an ambitious and brilliant toddler, so forgive me for any mistakes it may have.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ender's Game or Peter. They belong to their great creator, Orson Scott Card.

ooo

Peter's Game

"Do you think this boy's the one?"

"He's chances are high, but he's too violent. Maybe too much."

"And that's why you asked for the sister."

"Yes."

"And she doesn't seem to be the right one either, huh?"

"When did I say either of them weren't right for the job?"

"When you asked for the Third."

"The first two are still young. There's still some chance. But if I was wrong, I needed some sort of insurance."

ooo

Peter was bored. As the teacher read to the new class of 3-year-olds, Peter looked out the window. It was the first day of class, and he had already hacked into the teacher's computer and checked what they would be learning during the year. He already knew it all. And now, since the teacher had taken the children's desks away to read a picture book for them, Peter had nothing to do.

A sudden movement captured his attention. A bird sitting on a nest with three small, blue eggs. Peter took a mental note of its location. He might go look at it after the boring class was over.

"Okay class," said Ms. Kloet with a smile. "Now that were finished with the picture book, we are going to do an activity."

What now, Peter thought. Sing a cute little song about the cute little story?

"Remember how to hero of the story decided he was going to be an astronaut when he grew up? I want you to make a drawing of what _you _would like to be when you grow up."

As he took out a pencil to draw, Peter wondered what he wanted to do when he grew up. He certainly wanted to go to that Battle School in space, but he wasn't going to fight buggers all his life. No. It shouldn't take longer than twenty years. And there was still quite some time to live after that.

Peter wanted power. Not just recognition for winning an intergalactic war. He had heard his parents discuss in hushed tones when they thought he wasn't paying attention about how a war on Earth seemed to be brewing. People weren't happy, and the only thing keeping them together was the threat of the buggers. But one that was over, war could happen as easily as Peter would dismantle a toy car. So he had decided. He was going into the government, and he was going to become Hegemon of the world.

And now, back to drawing. He could draw himself sitting on a throne wearing a crown, but that was too childish. Yet, he was a child, after all. A throne it will be, but in needs some tweaking.

As the children got to work Ms, Kloet started going around, looking at what her students were drawing; A stick figure with a hose in front of a burning building, one with a stethoscope examining a brown figure she supposed was a dog, another driving a police car. And there were a couple of astronauts here and there.

As she got to the back of the room, she reached the quiet little boy who had sat alone. Peter was his name, if she was not mistaken. As she looked over his shoulder, the teacher was surprised. Peter had drawn a young man with a military uniform sitting on a monumental, throne-like chair giving a speech to a large group of people. Every single person was beautifully drawn and perfectly detailed. This was the sort of drawings her 19-years old son would make in the great art school he was enrolled in France. It was most definitely not something a 3-year old could do in ten minutes.

"What are you drawing, dear?" she asked him with a smile.

Peter didn't smile back. "My future," he said matter-of-factly, with an expression that showed he couldn't believe she didn't know that already.

"And what could it be?"

"I will be Hegemon of the world," he pointed at the young man in front of the crowd.

Ms. Kloet eyed the monitor at the back of his neck. "Don't you want to be an astronaut and protect the world from the aliens?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll destroy the buggers first. Then, I come back and rule the world."

The calm way he talked about it sent shivers down the teacher's spine.

ooo

Peter was angry. The teacher had shown everyone's drawing to the class, and when they had seen Peter's, they had decided they didn't like ambitious people with artistic abilities. They had laughed, and told him he would never be Hegemon. Peter had decided he would make them pay.

As he started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, he noticed a boy get up to follow him. Harris was his name, if Peter was not mistaken. He'd been the one who said he wanted to be a vet, and one of the ones that had laughed the loudest.

Let him come, Peter thought. I have something I want to show him.

Instead of going to the school's entrance to get picked up, Peter veered left and walked towards the tree he had seen from the classroom's window. He feigned finally noticing Harris and broke into a run. As expected the other boy continued following him. He reached the tree and started climbing it. The mother bird wasn't there, which made things easier.

When Harris reached the base, he tried climbing the tree, but couldn't get past the first foothold. Instead, he stayed on the ground screaming and taunting Peter to come down and fight.

Peter ignored him and delicately grabbed an egg. And then threw it as hard as he could at the screaming boy.

Harris fell silent. He felt the liquid oozing down his face, and suddenly found the half-formed bird embryo. He screamed again, but now in disgust and horror. Peter grabbed the other two eggs and threw them at the same time with a small smile.

Harris started sobbing. As he got out of there as quickly as he could, the sobs increased in intensity. He was wailing before he reached the building's entrance. Peter's smile widened. It always put him in a good mood when he took revenge on people who humiliated him. He hopped down to the ground and strolled happily back to the building, where he knew his mother would be waiting.

ooo

"How was school, Peter?" his father asked the boy, looking up from the newspaper.

"Fine," he answered. "The teacher read us a story and we drew what we wanted to be when we grew up."

"That's nice. And what did you draw, Peter?" his mom popped in.

Peter smiled. "I want to be in the government and help the world be a better place."

"Oh, that's such a great idea!" she exclaimed, patting his head. "Oh, Peter," she added more seriously, "could you get Valentine? There's something your father and I want to tell both of you."

"Sure," he said with a smile, but inside, he was full of curiosity and suspicion. Had one of them been accepted into battle school? True, they were too young still, but nobody had said anything about being told early about it. And besides, both of them were terribly bright children…

Peter found her building an Eiffel Tower with building blocks. He swept his foot in one of the supports and the structure came crashing down. Before she could protest he said loudly, "Mother and Father want to tell us something."

"What is it?" asked the tiny girl, with a squeaky voice but flawless pronunciation.

"I don't know! That's why I want you to hurry up to find out," he answered coldly.

Before she could get ready to crawl to the kitchen, Peter grabbed her and walked briskly back. But as he came into his parents' view, he softened his gaze and slowed his pace. All his parents saw was a loving older brother helping a baby to the kitchen when she could not do it on her own.

As Peter sat down with Valentine in his lap, their father began. "We have been very lucky to have two brilliant children as you two. Your mother and I had always wanted to have more than two children, but with the current laws, it is very hard. But we had another struck of luck."

"Peter, Valentine, you are having a little brother!" exclaimed their mother, tears of happiness in her eyes.

Peter stiffened. Valentine also grew tense. The same thing was going through both of their minds. Did this mean they didn't make it? That they were failed experiments? Their mother must have seen Valentine's quiet resignation, Peter's anger, because she said, "it's not that you two didn't make it, but the I.F.…wants to make sure to get a great soldier. And if they get three, even better."

Peter hid his rage with a smile, but it was harder than it usually was. "Wow, a little brother! I could maybe play games like baseball or football, when he grows older, right? And what will be his name?"

His father relaxed, apparently satisfied with Peter's interest. "We're not sure yet, but we are thinking about calling him Andrew."

As he babbled with his family about the new baby, Peter's thoughts were elsewhere. With the announcement of a Third, the I.F. had pretty much declared he was not needed anymore. They would pay. When he was Hegemon…

But meanwhile, he would vent his frustration on Valentine. And when he was born on his lovely baby brother. That brother who was to be born to be great at what Peter would never be.


End file.
